The Colour of Emotion
by FreedomValentine
Summary: au, in a sense.. i got the idea while thinking of what to write for an essay competition... and then i change the names and there... d'oh, just read it already...


**THE COLOUR OF EMOTION**

I looked at the stage from behind the curtains that isolated my room. My heart must have been beating at least ninety times a minute. I took in a deep couple of breaths.

"If you want my name, take it. If you want my face, take that as well. As long as you take it in good faith, you have my blessings and payer."

Funny… why would those words come to mind now? And that too, in that voice?

I reminisced that meeting of ours. My heartbeats became more constant. I was doing all this in good faith, just like she said, wasn't I?

But even then, it stayed: that nagging fear that somebody out there might know and spread the word that I was an imposter… that's right, a fluke, a cat in a lioness' hide.

The clamour of the crowds was even louder. I could feel the impatience in the air. Ironic, since half the country was still in mourning for those dead in the previous year's war. But in any case, everybody was waiting for me, Lacus Clyne.

I stepped out onto the stage, my bones turning to dust for the first time in my life (this was actually the first omen of what was to happen just a number of moments later), and prayed hard that they still believed that I was the real Lacus. And with a swish of my long pink tresses and a hinting smile, I began to spin my story.

Frankly, it was quite strange how I knew my hair was pink. Because I had to have others tell me. It's not my fault I cannot see in colour, so they would proceed to tell me while fussing over me. That was when I was a child. As I grew older, I expected to be successful at seeing things with my heart as like those people I had ever heard of in stories. That was how I wanted to tell what was coloured what. And as would fate have for me, I did not. I still had to rely on others. And I hated it. I hated having to thrust so much of my desperation into the hands of somebody else, ready for manipulation. Slowly, I began to hate colours.

And then, I met her… Lacus Clyne… Yes, I am not what people call her. But I always wanted to be. And one day, I was able to. Lacus Clyne: I loved her voice, her face. Even her name sounded and was perfect, unlike mine, Meer, and though I learnt from her to respect and love it as what made me stood out, I always found hers superior. And my hatred of colours remained, because that was another thing that made me stand out.

She had been in hiding for reasons unknown for quite a while then. And she never minded the fact that I was going to be another her, a copy of her. In fact, she asked me to do it. And all because of her people…

All those facts kept playing like a tape in my head. I paid no heed. I should have.

I tried hard, and finally succeeded in putting it all out of my head. Ironically, I was singing a song of colours and similar appearances. As the music finally ended, I waved enthusiastically to a group of girls carrying boards with MY name on them.

A young man appeared by my side, and began playing a sonata for my next song.

I must have been born very stupid indeed. Because I never noticed that a person right in front of my big prominent nose was brandishing a gun in my direction. I was so lost in my own alternate universe.

As a bang sounded, I looked around. The bullet pierced my clothes, then my skin and my flesh and then reverse. And then… I saw it... the colour of blood….

It really was confusing, yes. Had I just seen a colour out of the 'black, grey and white' ranges?

I blinked. There it was, spurting out of my stomach… the richest red I had ever even dreamed of…

"Miss Meer!"

A cry pierced the air. As I twirled to the ground in an almost endless waltz, a figure ran towards me. It was the other Lacus, the real Lacus.

She caught me in her arms and held me close, tears streaming down her moon-pale face. All I could pay attention to in those moments, however, were the colours around me and of Lacus. Her tresses were a dark rich red, and her eyes the most brilliantly dark blue. I knew I looked like that then… though of course that isn't what I was born with. Even in my colourless world, I knew there was one thing nobody had in their eyes: pride.

A dozen gasps sounded, and muttering began. The one who had pulled the trigger on me, my assassin, had disappeared. A roar came from a corner, "So we've been watching a fluke all this while!"

I didn't blame them; they had no idea.

Smoky tears trickled down the real one's chin.

Everything was coming to me in fast forward mode. I began to see something I never had before.

Colours were everywhere… the auditorium decked out in light blue, the fans wearing white and pink, the colours of Lacus Clyne … and my past… it was all coming to me, now in colour.

I could see my mother's kind brown eyes, and the mocking hazel of my siblings, one comforting me and the others bullying me, dying my hair green.

I could see the tombstone of my long-gone father. They said he had died in sorrow caused by my misfortunate disability, my family, and so they mocked at me.

I could see the quiet withdrawn me mousing away from every event of life like there was nothing I was not redundant in.

At the same time, I felt the life in me leaving my physical self. Well, obviously, I was dying there.

But I couldn't care less of that. I was so engrossed and happy about my new present from Heaven, even if it was in my last moments.

Miss Lacus' tears fell on my cheeks and neck as she softly uttered my name, urging me to stay a little longer, to hang in there until someone came.

I tried my best to smile and pulled a key, a key to the secrets of my true life, out and pushed it into her half-open fist.

"Please sing… of my life… sing my song…"

I said it with my true smile. And that was my last song. My only performance in the play that was life had ended.

Even after I closed my eyes for an eternal nap, I could hear anguish and wailing, littered with many a sad comment of my life, the imposter's life. Even as it died down, I could see, hear and feel the colours around me, because I was so happy. At least, that's what I think.

I suppose that how life could be described: sacrificial and colourful. I gave up my existence, identity and now my life to overcome that one reason I had hated myself for. My last song came so soon because I wanted to see colours. But I was happy. I was not elated… but I was happy… yes, just plain and simply happy.

And I think its best to look at it from the better side. At least my dream came true. At least I got to see what I wanted to. At least I made a difference, even if it was only in my own life.

Its not possible to explain this peculiar story of mine in one line or whatsoever… but a word from the departed that might help… colours aren't all that bad….

A little note:

The actual story has an Oceania Marie (Lacus) and a Miranda (Meer) and I actually wrote this as an essay for a competition. The theme was colours, and I got inspiration from EMOTION, Meer's image song. But since I'm posting it here, I've changed the names to how I envisioned it. I guess it could be called an alternate universe thingy… but that's up to you…In this story, Meer is a girl who looks just like Lacus from birth but sees everything in black and white. And Lacus asked her to be the imposter.

Somebody please tell me if the italics are working here…


End file.
